


may i, shall i?

by oikusokawa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, im sorry i cant write, iwaoi said screw english class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:20:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23456935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oikusokawa/pseuds/oikusokawa
Summary: Iwaizumi’s decision to be no fun is not a surprise; however, he doesn’t remember the last time his best friend had chosen to stay engaged in class over ridiculing Oikawa.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69





	may i, shall i?

**Author's Note:**

> the idea of ur soulmate's name appearing on ur wrist is so cute, so i made iwaoi write it on their wrists themselves! HAHAHAHAH it's a completely self-indulgent fic, i'm really not a writer but maybe i can try to learn while in quarantine! it's a little short but pls enjoy if possible;;;;;;; <3

“Now, which should we use in this case? _May I_? or _Shall I_?”

Oikawa rests his cheek against his palm, angling his body to hide right behind his classmate sitting in front of him. The sun is shining through the window ever so warmly onto his backside, and a soft breeze comes from the same direction, carrying subtle scents of the bloomed cherry blossoms nearby. Oikawa wants to do nothing more than fall asleep.

Iwaizumi sits diagonally ahead of him, and Oikawa can tell from the back of his endearing head that he too, is bored out of his mind.

“ _May I_ take your bag? Excellent, Nakajima-san!”

Oikawa takes a turquoise gel pen, a shiny one that he had received from one of the many members of the Oikawa Tooru Fanclub, and draws a small star on his arm. He furthermore busies himself with another, and adds a crown next to it to humour himself.

Oikawa bites back a laugh to admire his beautiful handiwork; he had carefully inscribed Iwaizumi’s full name onto his wrist, and blows on it to dry the runny ink into his skin.

“ _Shall I_ take you home? I do not recommend using that in real life Takeda-san, it may sound too suggestive, how about…”

Iwaizumi’s head jerks up when Oikawa throws his eraser at him; an accusing glare is thrown back, but doesn’t last for long when Iwaizumi’s eyes fall onto Oikawa’s wrist. He’s expectant, waiting for Iwaizumi to wince, or to crack a smile.

Oikawa is left to listen to the English teacher taking examples instead, albeit with some annoyance to the playful nature of the students’ answers, as Iwaizumi simply turns around to resume his attention to the lecture.

“ _Shall I_ have your phone number? Very funny Sakamoto-san, but try _may I_ for that example.”

Iwaizumi’s decision to be no fun is not a surprise; however, he doesn’t remember the last time his best friend had chosen to stay engaged in class over ridiculing Oikawa. Had Iwaizumi finally stripped away from his bruteness to fully embrace the maturity of early adulthood?

“Iwaizumi-san, please enlighten me as to why you have drawn all over your arm,” the English teacher snaps, and so do Oikawa’s eyes to Iwaizumi’s raised arm. He leans forward to see, and his heart jumps to his throat when he sees a rather large singular character, Tooru, written messily, _brutishly_ , in thick black strokes.

“ _May I_ go to the bathroom?” Iwaizumi says in English, and the entire classroom erupts in hushed snickers. Oikawa wants to hide his face and disappear, but he can’t rip his eyes away from the back of Iwaizumi’s neck that has flushed into an impossibly brilliant shade of red.

The teacher nods in defeat, and Iwaizumi gets up from his seat in the most disrupting, and awkward way possible. Oikawa feels his face burning in humiliation, he’s not sure if it’s for Iwaizumi or his own sake, and really doesn’t believe anything could get any worse until he feels himself being dragged viciously out of his chair.

The class erupts in laughter, and Oikawa swears he can hear some cheeky whistles over the teacher’s measly attempt to control the class. He’s being pulled quite violently across the hallway, and towards the bathrooms. (Oikawa sees a few girls from the Oikawa Tooru Fanclub with their mouths hanging open on the way; well, there goes his reputation.)

At least a dozen thoughts simultaneously bombard his brain, but all of them dissolve when Iwaizumi finally lets go of his arm; his best friend averts his gaze to anywhere but at himself, and Oikawa is suddenly hit by a crashing wave of confidence.

“Marking yourself as mine, Iwa-chan?”

Oikawa doesn’t need to do or say anything more; Iwaizumi pulls him in by the waist, _god_ he was so full of surprises today, and lightly grazes his lips against Oikawa’s. Laughter unintentionally bubbles up his throat, as he cups Iwaizumi’s still flushed cheeks to return an earnest kiss.

“You’re so unfair,” Iwaizumi mutters, as he peppers Oikawa’s face with rough, disgustingly wet pecks. Oikawa feels his chest soar with immense fondness when Iwaizumi tightens his grip around his waist; it’s possessive, if their names on each other’s wrists (technically arm, for Iwaizumi) had indicated otherwise, it’s absolutely endearing, and Oikawa can’t stop himself from smiling through their unhurried exchange of languid kisses.

Iwaizumi breaks apart first, but his hands remain folded at the small of Oikawa’s back. Oikawa nestles his head in the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck, sighing in content; with only less than a week of school left, the repercussions of disappearing from class for fifteen minutes shouldn’t be so severe.

“ _Shall we_ go back to class?”

“What are we going to write in our reflection paper?” Iwaizumi murmurs into Oikawa’s hair. Oikawa buries his nose as far as he can into his shoulder, in a poor attempt to prevent further inhalation of the putrid bathroom stench. Iwaizumi seems to think the same, but begins to press kisses behind Oikawa’s ear. It tickles, he pinches Iwaizumi’s side to let him know, and it also sends a pleasant shiver up his spine; Iwaizumi continues to rouse a now kindling fire in the depths of Oikawa’s stomach, as teasing nips continue down his nape.

They both know Oikawa can easily talk themselves out of a reflection paper, but they also know any further time spent away from class would really test the limits of his charm. Oikawa eases himself out of Iwaizumi’s grasp and half-heartedly straightens his uniform. He chastely kisses his own wrist, where Iwaizumi’s name had smudged off long ago, and throws a wink as he makes his way out of the bathroom.

" _May I_ write about how stupidly in love I am with you?" 

Iwaizumi kisses his own arm in response; a loud smack echoes off the walls and lovingly flitters into Oikawa's heart. 


End file.
